


Phantom Fam

by glittergrenade



Series: *quickly posts all my TotA fics just before s03s01 comes out* [1]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Drama queens, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, ILY, Post-Episode: s02e19-20 Twilight of the Apprentice, Sith Holocron, dark side Ezra, heh, or calaner or whatev, yeah I'm really doing that who cares about the clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittergrenade/pseuds/glittergrenade
Summary: Ezra is a mess after Malachor, and the rest of the team aren't too great either.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So the Season 3 premiere comes out in the morning, but I never got around to posting allllll my Twilight of the Apprentice fics! Better do that quick huh?
> 
> ik I normally used to post only Marvel and rapper fics and I still love that stuff but Star Wars is my new(?) obsession
> 
> Also, I can't do titles but what you gonna do
> 
> Thanks for clicking on my fic :)

Tears blurred Ezra's vision as he stared at the open holocron levitating in the air; so he scolded himself unforgivingly. How dare he cry ― his master couldn't cry, his master couldn't never cry again ― so what gave Ezra, in all practicality the perpetrator of that loss, the right to? It was all because of him! He had trusted Maul, he had insisted they all trust Maul, and because of his blind faith in that Old Master, Kanan would never be able to see again. And Ahsoka… poor Ahsoka. Ezra remembered the look of determination in her eyes as she'd chosen to face off Vader alone, he remembered the blast of the ancient Sith Temple; and now he shuddered to think of what had happened to her. It wasn't a shudder of fear (Ezra's fear had long sense vanished), but of anger ― largely at fate, partly at the Force, also at Maul, hugely towards Vader… but most of all, at himself.

He had failed his master. There were no two ways about that!

He clenched his fists, and suddenly, thickness catching in his throat, his heart burned red hot in his chest, and he grasped harder onto his anger ― and it helped. Not to make the anger disappear, that was a forgotten dream, but at least to bring meaning to this pain. Ezra was in dire need of meaning after what had happened on Malachor. And though Maul had instructed him in the technique, it didn't mean it wasn't useful. Didn't mean Ezra should fail to take advantage of its power. He focused his fury intensely towards the holocron, already opened now as dark energies permeated every midi-chlorian in his body and it seemed the whole room; he focused his anger towards unlocking the secrets of the Sith.

The 'Dark Side' was, undebatably, the only way. At least, its holocron was. There had never truly been hope doing things Kanan's way, but the sense of belonging the crew of the Ghost brought to him had blinded him to that. So this must have been why the Force had led Ezra to them, to show them other ways, compromising ways ― but as many jokes he made at the expense of Kanan, he idolized the older Jedi, and that had made things clouded. Thus Ezra's parents had died, and now, after Malachor ― as the anger swelled higher, not confined but pouring freely out of Ezra, it was clear to him that this darker method was the only way to not loose everything he had left. Sure, it wasn't the Jedi way, but it only needed to be temporary, and it was the only way to bring justice ― and not only for his parents anymore. The Empire had taken so much from him, from everybody, from Kanan.

Curses ran through his head, swear words in every language he knew a few words of. (Yes, even Binary. Chopper had a potty mouth.) Then something else, something that made him feel powerful, like there was more to him than anyone ever knew ― if he didn't think too hard on it. _Teach me,_ that part of him that definitely wasn't a part of him was saying. _Teach me the ways of the Sith._

Suddenly there was a scrabbling at the door, as if lost for the opening pad; then it slid open. Ezra jumped, but even startled he knew in the pit of his stomach before looking up that it wasn't his trusty roommate ah la Zeb (not that that would've been a great thing, either).

Kanan sucked in his breath, and guilt soared through into Ezra's conscience as he saw the white blindfold where his master's eyes used to be. He could also sense wild emotions coming off Kanan ― not very befitting of a Jedi.

"What are you doing, Ezra?" Kanan said very loudly, the skin on his lower face pale and shocked.

"Nothing, master." Slowly Ezra let the holocron drop into his hand. Kanan couldn't see him. He didn't need to know. Kanan would never understand a necessity to tap into the Dark Side for any reason, and Ezra didn't need to cause him more pain. Kanan was a good teacher, a good _person_. He didn't need to feel inadequate, especially not when he'd just literally been _blinded_.

Kanan's lip curled, shifting his weight against the doorframe. "I'm blind, not Force-null. What are you doing?" He stepped closer, reaching out an arm as if to touch him, and Ezra quickly put the holocron away, stowing it gingerly into the drawer.

" _Nothing_ ," Ezra insisted, taking his hand and helping him to sit down beside him. "Your emotions are making you think things. I mean seriously, relax, you're disturbing the Force," he tried to joke; it didn't make any sense, which showed on Kanan's face.

"Ezra," Kanan's voice was soft, and he laid a gentle hand across his paduwan's shoulder. "You can talk to me about this. I won't scold you." He was trying to be kind, but Ezra could sense that Kanan actually was feeling extremely disturbed, even… afraid? Of what?

Guilt tugged at his heart, and instinctively he lifted a hand to gloss over the band across what was left of his master's eyes. His heart felt hollow. Kanan firmed his grip gently around Ezra. "Hey, I'm fine, okay? I never have to watch you and Zeb squabble again. Or Chopper. Think of what a relief that'll be?"

Tears started at Ezra's eyes, which he blinked harshly away. Never have to see that again… he'd never be able to see _them_ again. Not the crew, not the ship, not… Ezra. Nothing.

"Hey, hey." Kanan pulled the sobbing boy into his chest, and Ezra gripped tight onto his jacket. "It's okay. We're still together. You, me, Hera, Zeb, Sabine, Chop."

 _Not Ahsoka._ Kanan didn't mention her, but Ezra knew it went unsaid between them. Ahsoka was… dead, and it was all his fault. He'd convinced her and Kanan to stay around, to be present at Darth Vader's arrival. And they had. Because although they didn't trust Maul, they trusted Ezra. And that trust had doomed them.

He stiffened suddenly, pulling away from Kanan and rubbing hard at his eyes. There was no time for this, not for him. And it was so messed up to allow Kanan ― the one who'd actually suffered ― to comfort _him._

Kanan watched him. Well, not really watched him of course, but it felt like it, his head facing towards him, tendrils of the Force reaching out to him. Not just the Force. The Light Side of the Force, that Kanan still clung to.

Ezra took a deep breath; his master was definitely owed some explanation, or he'd never settle down. "I was trying to open the holocron. We went to Malachor for information. We lost so much, I couldn't let it all be for nothing."

Kanan nodded. He didn't look at all surprised. "Did you get it open?"

Ezra's mouth went dry suddenly, and his mind raced. _Yes. And it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._ "No," he lied immediately, his stomach turning in knots. "I couldn't get it to open."

Kanan breathed out through his lips, and from the relief that waved off him, Ezra could tell he believed him. "That's good," Kanan said encouragingly. "Only a Sith can open a Sith holocron. That you couldn't… it means, well, it means that you're not evil."

"You doubted that?" Ezra quipped, though a heavy feeling weighted in his gut. He felt insulted, really hurt, even though he knew Kanan hadn't intended to be negative. How could he?

"Of course not, I trained you, and I don't train evil," Kanan smirked. The smile quickly faded however as he moved on. "Promise you won't try to open it again though, alright? The Dark Side is deadly to even dabble in. It will swallow you up and consume you, until you are but a shadow of whom you were."

Irritation prickled sharply at Ezra. (Oh, that must be because he was evil.) "Didn't you say you wouldn't scold me?"

"I'm not," genuine confusion and concern filled Kanan's response. "I just… you're skilled in the Force, Ezra. You know I sensed what you were doing. That's why I came. I just want to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Ezra's eyebrows shot up dubiously. "This life is anything but safe, and you know it!"

"Of course, I meant―"

"No one cares what you meant!" Ezra stood up, tossing the holocron and shoving it into a drawer next to the Jedi training holocron. Guilt nagged at him for being so sharp towards Kanan, but he had to get him out of here. He threw himself on the bed. "I'm gonna get some sleep. I'm sure Hera wants to spend time with you?"

Hurt radiated off of Kanan, though he brought up his mental shields immediately after so Ezra could no longer see. "Okay. See ya. Maybe you'll feel better after a nap."

"What makes you think I'm not feeling wonderful already?" Ezra half snapped. There was really no reason to, Kanan had just given him his out; but every moment he looked at Kanan's damaged face, Ezra's guilt buzzed through his chest and made him feel wretched.

"That attitude," suggested Kanan. "This is not the way I trained you."

"Newsflash! I was already a fully independent person before you bust your way into my life. Doing perfectly well on my own with my 'attitude.'"

" _Right_." That was the only word Kanan said to that, which surprised Ezra. (Especially since the Ghost crew hasn't exactly bust _their_ way into _his_ life.) Kanan always had a bit of an attitude himself. "Rest up good, okay? I'll be in the entrance bay." He touched the lock pad, and walked as soon as the door slid open, one outstretched hand guiding him along the familiar hallway. Its closing felt more like a thud inside, when Kanan was gone.

Ezra sighed, burying his head in the pillow and trying to meditate. He definitely needed to improve his own mental shielding if he was ever going to use the Sith holocron in peace.

 

Ezra was a speeder wreck. Kanan reflected silently as he sat on the lowest rung of the ladder. He hadn't wanted to point it out unnecessarily, but Ezra was a strong kid ― barely a kid, with the life he'd been forced to lead from so young. It was true, Ezra had kept a level enough head to survive on his own for years; yet now emotions seemed to rule his everything. Yelling to sassing to crying ― _crying_ ― in that moment of pure vulnerability Ezra had cried on his shoulder, Kanan had felt waves of the Dark Side come upon him, waves whose source was indubitably Ezra. Kanan had forced himself not to shudder, but his chest felt icy cold.

He'd wanted to take the holocron, honestly. Snatch it straight out of Ezra's possession and bury it somewhere on the Ghost or on the base where Ezra's skills couldn't penetrate (if that was possible). But he couldn't, he told himself. If he lost faith in Ezra, how would Ezra have faith in himself? Kanan couldn't show such doubt in his Paduwan as to confiscate what _he_ had entrusted to him. And it _wasn't_ that he didn't trust Ezra ― right? He trusted him! He knew Ezra wanted to do good. The kid just… could he actually believe that the Dark Side was the way to do it? Or maybe he just didn't realize that's what he'd doing? Regardless ― Kanan was Ezra's master, so it was his duty to show him otherwise. Thank the Force he hadn't been able to open that holocron. He stood up abruptly.

"Kanan…" Pulled suddenly out of his thoughts, he became aware of Hera's presence across the room. Concern radiated from her. "What's wrong, love?"

Kanan faced her, or what he was sure was towards her direction; and he sensed her regret for phrasing the question in that way. He pulled an exaggerated smile, "Oh, just the usual." She shouldn't question further. Kanan was painfully aware what a giant baby he'd been since he'd lost his eyes, and doubly painfully aware that Hera was aware of it too. It had never been easy for him to pretend to be himself when he wasn't. In the old days, the early days of the Empire, he'd coped with loss by being emo as hell. The only way he'd been able to sort of move on, for a while, had been throwing away all responsibilities and cutting connections to his past. Running away from problems was what Kanan was a pro at.

He didn't do that anymore, of course, not when he was the token Jedi of the Rebel Alliance. And while for years now he'd been fighting the good fight with Hera and bettering himself as a person, he still hadn't figured out a healthy way to deal with loss. Even now, of silly things like his eyeballs.

Which was exactly why he couldn't lose Ezra, too.

"Kanan." He felt her hand over his, and realized suddenly she was close enough for him to feel her breath. She smelled like flowers and meiloorun at prime ripeness.

"Hera." His fingers felt their way to the curve of her back, trying to get a sense of her without being weird.

"You're worried about Ezra." The magic seemed to fall from the air, and it felt like Kanan's fault. Hera's tone was the serious matter-of-fact tone he hated to love.

Kanan shrugged. "Uh… what makes you think that?" Had she been listening in on them? She wasn't the type.

"You're far from discreet," she shrugged, as her gentle pressure began to leave his. Kanan felt a surge of panic as her blouse left his fingers, but quickly tried to calmed himself down as she walked away. He hoped she didn't notice. He didn't think she did. "You should go back to him and resolve things. What were you talking about? And do you want to tell me about what happened when you were away?"

"I told you what happened." Kanan swung his legs, tired. "Bad Sith Darth Maul, Worse Sith Darth Vader, freaky ass temple." He really had been over it all with her before, when they'd more recently got back from Malachor, at a much more emotional time.

"Yes, but I mean what happened within you," she also seemed to say tiredly, though she backtracked the moment the words had left her mouth. "And I _don't_ mean that you're any different, but… what does this holocron do?"

Kanan bit his lip, feeling annoyed. "Presumably, it has a bunch of Sith teachings in it. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me, Hera. I know what I'm like."

"Don't we all." Kanan thought he heard a slight laugh in her voice, but Hera subdued. "Of course though, you know I give it to you as it is."

"Yeah." Kanan wasn't sure he agreed, but Hera sounded so warm, and she was his best friend. That meant she was here for him, even when he wasn't. Blindly, he reached an arm out tentatively, and she touched his hand in a reassuring gesture. He entwined his fingers in hers and pulled her in close.

"Do you want to go to Ezra?" Her voice was soft, but sudden all the same.

"That's where I just was," Kanan put emphasis into each of his words, so maybe she would get it. How could somebody who wasn't Force-sensitive be this persistent? "He's tired and grumpy. He doesn't want to hang out, Hera."

"Nobody should go to sleep on an angry heart, Force forbid in our line of work." Her tone was tinged with amusement, but it sounded like poetry. "I would think you'd know that, Kanan."

"Oh yeah, because when wakes up I'll be dead?" Kanan sighed too scoffingly. "I haven't been doing anything, Hera. Hell, if I did work a mission we all know I'd just endanger it…" inadvertently he whined, an admission he'd never say to anyone else.

"You're wrong on that one." Hera put her hands on his shoulders, and Kanan felt warily like he was being primed up for something. "You've been sitting out these past few so you can recover from such an intense experience, not because we don't need you. Didn't you kill Darth Maul? After he'd just ― sliced your eyes?" She hesitated, but didn't hold back saying. He appreciated that.

Kanan was silent. He didn't think he'd killed Maul. He was pretty sure he would have sensed the life leaving him through the Force, a being so strong in the Dark Side… he was just pretty sure he'd know.

Apparently Hera mistook his awkward silence for a confirmation that she was right. "See, love? Look, I think Ezra needs to talk to you again. If he's tired and grumpy, that's what he's been for a long time because he hasn't had a playful conversation with anybody since you returned. I'd like to come too, if that's alright. We're all supposed to be together. We won't let anything separate the team again, you hear?"

"I'm telling you, he's in a really bad mood," Kanan repeated in irritation, trying to get this across to her when she just wouldn't listen. "Yeah, I'm worried about him, but he doesn't want to talk about the Force right now, and that's the only way all I know how to help him."

Hera hesitated, and somehow Kanan seemed to feel her warm blue eyes on his neck. "He has a good teacher, Kanan."

Ah, this was the Hera he liked. Complimenting him, saying he was a good teacher, saying he was handsome… Ah, but in all seriousness, it was. Intuitive and considerate… she knew this had something to do with the Dark side, but what does she do instead of chide him? Compliment him, that's what!

"Kanan."

Kanan tried to blink, forgetting for a moment, then lifted his chin towards her. "Yeah?"

"You're smiling, but why does something tell me it's not because of me?"

"It _is_ because of you!" She was right, Kanan realized, he was smiling (or smirking). That was a pleasant change; and in spite of her words, he could sense Hera thought so too.

"Does that mean you're ready to go talk to Ezra?"

The smile seemed to melt from Kanan's face. "You always know the right things to say, don't you." His tone came out dry, the sarcasm unfunny.

"He's your Paduwan, Kanan." She sounded tired; but when she laced her fingers through his, it was the most reassuring thing in Kanan's blackness. "Only you can guide him through this. He needs you now more than ever."

Kanan was almost thankful that he couldn't physically cry in front of her anymore, because that's what he felt like doing. "I can't, Hera. Remember how I said had a vision too in the Temple on Lothal? …I, I _can't_. The Dark side calls to him, he's the only one who can reject it. I'm literally helpless."

"Hey. Hey." She pulled him gently in close, soothing, and Kanan clenched his face and squeezed his body against hers. Her scent and heat were like a poor man's banquet, and Kanan was the poor man. Hera stroked his hair softly. "Hey," she repeated softly. "It's okay. But you're not helpless. You can still guide him, like you have been. You're a good teacher, and Ezra knows it. He will make the right choice and follow you."

"But he told me to leave him alone." Kanan may be unable to shed tears, but his voice sure was doing a lot of choking up.

"That's what teenagers say when they need you to stay, don't you remember?" Hera seemed to lean back, confusing Kanan a little.

"No," he replied simply. When he was a teenager, he'd really needed to be left alone ― lest the government exterminate him for being a Jedi and all that.

"Then trust me, love." Hera gave him a pat on the shoulder, and he buried himself into her again.

"I trust you," he replied hoarsely, because he did.

 

"Boys," Sabine muttered, as she slid her tie-dye breastplate backwards along the side of the ventilation shaft. Of course, Hera was a woman, and pretty mature, but even through their very muffled tones, Sabine could tell when the Twi'lek was trying to comfort her man. Kanan was frustrated with Zeb, no Chopper, no, Ezra ― that was his Ezra voice ― Kanan was upset, and it totally wasn't related to his eyes.

His eyes. The real reason why she was muttering _boys_ pretending to herself to be exasperated; exasperation was so much easier an emotion than sadness. It was so uncomfortable to watch Kanan stumble around, throwing what some might term as a _fit_ when somebody asked him if he needed help. Kanan did try to stay bright, he smiled in her direction when he knew she was there; but she could tell. He spent most of his time in bed, anyway. Hera would know more about what went on with that.

Sabine squinted at the painted designs ahead of her. That was why she'd come up here in the ventilation shaft; it had desperately needed color. Somebody else might have thought her idea stupid, but Sabine was far from that. She could see things as they could be, should be, rather than as they were; plus she knew way more people wandered around up here than were ever meant to ― plus, art created up here was far less likely to get people trying to scrub off. Tons of audience, nobody daring to ruin it ― this was the perfect location for the beauty she could already feel in her soul.

Suddenly, she heard a croaky bleeping from directly beneath her, echoing against the ceiling, and her heart pounded when she realized Chopper was talking to _her_. His voice was muffled, but as clear as his direct tone.

"How the kriff…" she began under her breath, before Chopper started going on about heat signatures, and how he was equipped to monitor those things since Hera would prefer the lothrats back on Lothal didn't crawl around in the works of the _Ghost_.

" _Huh_ ," Sabine hissed, because that was all she could think of to say.

Chopper kept rambling with casual brightness, but only one phrase caught Sabine's attention. _You should come out at Ezra's room and scare him. He could use cheering up!_

Sabine groaned inwardly as she thought of the jokes Ezra would crack ― or _worse_ , the legit _conviction_ with which he might conclude Sabine's reasons for dropping into his room. "Are you serious, Chop?"

_Okay I don't know what happened when they were gone but clearly it wasn't good._

"No shit," Sabine muttered. "Ahsoka died. Kanan was blinded. I think Ezra got off lucky, wouldn't you say?" When Chopper suddenly started going on about Hera and Kanan and today, Sabine narrowed her eyes. "You eavesdropping?" She narrowed them even more when Chopper accused her of the same. "I wouldn't have to be to wonder why you know so much. And don't try saying Hera tells you everything ― we _all_ know you'd be way too easy to hack."

 _You should paint Ezra's bunk_ , Chopper chirped smartly, as if she hadn't said anything demeaning. _Nothing cheers this team up better than some nice Mandalorian art._

"Grr," Sabine clenched her spray paint can; her trained ear didn't miss the sarcasm in his bleeps. "Just shut up, okay?" Somebody was going to hear them talking like this and she'd have to deal with the embarrassment of hissing down at the astromech from a ventilation shaft like a crazy person. Like Ezra. Yeah, that really sounded like the type of thing Ezra would do.

And thanks to her luck, that was exactly what happened ― but the luck at least was real in the fact that it wasn't Ezra. "Chopper!" She heard the suave accented voice of Zeb nosing around the corridor, and scooted forwards towards the hatch, opening it up and letting herself down just as the large Lasat came into view. "Sabine?" He sounded a little confused, but in almost a bored type of way. "What're you doing up there?"

"Repairs," she replied blandly ― it was true in a way; walls without art were walls without life, meaning basically the walls were dead and deserved to be resuscitated to keep flying the way this ship did. For once though, she was grateful for the fact that Zeb had never bothered to learn Binary to understand Chopper, because the mech was yelling that she hadn't actually been using her time so benignly. Like Chopper knew anything.

As it was, Zeb kicked Chopper in his mismatched strut, producing a sound like rattling screws that made Sabine think somebody seriously needed to patch him up again. "Don't be so loud, you walking trash can, something's going on down the hall."

Chopper slammed him back in the knee, squeaking indignantly, but Zeb placed a clawed purple hand over his top, trying to hold him down. Sabine leaned against the wall, content to watch but not wanting to get involved in this conflict. Zeb winced as Chopper hit him with a low level electric pulse. "Wow, Chop, if only your maturity circuits had any juice at all ― and I don't care if they're not a thing, they should be for your sake!" He shoved the droid again.

Chopper instantly started to retaliate, when Sabine broke in verbally. "What's going on, Zeb?"

"What?" Zeb was gazing at Chopper like he was the sole bane of his existence.

"You said something was going on down the hall." Sabine strongly suspected whatever it was had something to do so with the other crew members. It had been nearly discern to hear from up in the vent, but Sabine might've sworn something was not okay with Kanan and Hera when she heard them talking. Sure, it was easier to be sarcastic ― it was easier for Zeb, too, she knew ― but she loved her friends.

"Oh yeah. Bonding over their field trip or something." Zeb's eyes left Chopper momentarily to give her a brief but deep look, and that was all that was needed. Sabine knew it was hardest for those who'd been away. How could it not be, when their trip had changed them so much? Even when Sabine had to watch the stubborn Kanan stumble around on his own, it wouldn't leave her mind that it reached a stronger level than mere discomfort for the actual blind guy.

Zeb was scowling at the droid. "They don't need _you_ around, that's all that matters. Why don't you go outside and chase bogans?"

Chopper screeched at him, clearly insulted at being talked down to. This was about to get physical again, she could see it already, like a wet brush hanging just inches from a white canvas.

"Chopper," Sabine said in a voice that wasn't loud but was filled to the brink with authority to both of them, as she slipped out a small but fairly powerful handmade bomb out of her other paint can and tossed it between hands.

Chopper squealed, and the noise Zeb made was almost identical. Then Chopper fled to hide behind Zeb's back. The Lasat rolled his eyes, a totally _done_ expression on his face, and ― evidently not thinking this through ― sat on the machine heavily. Chopper started zooming in circles till Zeb was forced to tumble off. He didn't instantly regain his footing.

"Karabast! You broken box of bolts," Zeb glared, but Sabine could tell he was trying very hard to look like the mature one in this situation. It didn't work, but who was she to gloat?

Heh.

Chopper was focused on Sabine (to her mild surprise) since she'd called his name, so she picked up: "You were saying Ezra's down in the dumps, right? This all have something to do with him?"

"Hey, you know how Kanan…" Zeb began to interrupt in a voice that sounded like he was trying to console Sabine; but she could hear the anxiety underneath. Zeb was worried about Kanan ― they all were. But, what if something even worse had happened to _both_ Jedi on Malachor, _worse_ than Kanan's loss of sight?

Worse even than the rebellion's loss of Fulcrum? Was that possible?

She decided that didn't matter ― not exactly. She had no interest in making traumatized people tell their stories ― but if they were her friends, she definitely cared if they got past it. But in order to get past something like that, one needed to understand… maybe there was a less direct route into doing that.

She spoke suddenly, surprising herself. "Spectres Two and Four, who's up for a bit of eavesdropping?"

 

Ezra didn't even look up, though he regretted his position. He was crouched on his hands and knees on his bunk, half under the sheets, when the gentle knock came. It sounded too gentle to be Kanan. That didn't mean he wanted to stop trying ― or pretending ― to sleep. He stretched out his legs slowly, doing his best to be silent, but it was at that moment when the door slid open.

"I said wait!" He heard a hushed female whisper that was clearly Hera.

"And I said wait longer, but we don't always get what we want." Kanan. Wow, that sure was _encouraging_.

Ezra lay frozen in bed, in his stretched out half crawling position. Hopefully they would realize they weren't wanted here and leave.

No such luck. The lighting was flipped on, and he heard Hera's  
voice softly at his shoulder. "Hey, Ezra, it's us."

"I know you're not sleeping," Kanan added annoyingly. Ezra wondered miserably if he could sense it how pissed he was at his room being bust into again ― then he remembered his awkward body position, and he flushed.

"Go away," Ezra groaned, tucking his knees in under his chest and trying to sound extra sleepy. _Please leave. I can't deal with this now._

"We're sorry," Hera genuinely did sound apologetic, but that wasn't any good if she wasn't about to act on it. "Kanan was worried you took something he said the wrong way, and we wanted to make sure you're alright."

Ezra tensed, then sat bolt upright, accidentally knocking Hera's arm aside. A look of surprise passed over her green face, for a moment and he wasn't sure if he'd hurt her, but the thought didn't last. Just then his eyes landed on Kanan, standing with a straight back a little behind her, and Ezra's heart burrowed itself into his stomach again. The older Jedi was chewing on his lip, the blindfold creased along with his forehead. He _did_ look worried.

Ezra's throat tightened, and his conscience felt really _bad_. Why did he end up causing so much suffering for Kanan ― Kanan, who had lost more than any of them on Malachor ― who _Ezra_ had in all practicality _caused_ to loose the most, and he was still concerned about his… what, wellbeing? Why was Ezra such a source of worry? How could he stop it? When could he stop being a burden on his master, stop inadvertently stealing from Kanan the little reprieve he did have?

"Something he said…" Ezra echoed questioningly, before the emotions hit him as it sunk in ― and the horrible feeling of betrayal. "You told her about the holocron?" He felt numb for a moment, hurt, then strangely angry ― then numb again, then very angry. He stood straight up up, his muscles clenching as he strutted straight past Hera to stand inches from Kanan, getting on tiptoe as his heart pounded almost as if he wanted his master to feel his breath directly in his face. He didn't exactly, but, why would Kanan tell anyone, even Hera, when he thought the holocron was so forbidden? Didn't he care about Ezra? It was one thing for Kanan to _think_ that Ezra was on the brink of evil, he could keep that to himself ― it was another thing to go around spreading the word! "This is Jedi business." Ezra glared at the blindfold that marked the handicap, and in some strange way, Ezra's overwhelming guilt for what had happened _to_ Kanan helped to fuel his anger _against_ him. How dare he.

Ezra's voice came out breathy, loud, and he was sure the hurt showed through. "What, you don't trust me? You literally think I'm going to open the freakish thing and join the Empire?" _Going_ to open. The phrase slid off his tongue without even thinking about the lie. The _join the Empire_ part was more preoccupying him. _Did_ Kanan think Ezra might join their enemies, after what they had done to all of them? Ezra's hatred of the Empire was what got him through each day! Was it actually possible that Kanan thought he'd join them? Was it?

"No!" Kanan's face looked a little shocked at the accusation, but Ezra brushed that under the rug. He was still mad. Kanan continued; "Of course I don't think you'd join the Empire, are you serious! And I don't think you'd try to open the holocron if you really thought about what it was, but…" Kanan shivered, and Ezra sensed he was trying to reach out to Hera for help.

Hera seemed to realize that too, because presently she placed a firm hand between them, and Ezra reluctantly allowed himself to be pushed back from his master. His gaze however didn't leave Kanan's blindfold.

"What Kanan means is that the holocron is dangerous, and after Ahsoka, and Maul, and your fight with Vader… anyone would be in pieces after what you've been through. You're a strong kid, Kanan just wanted to know if he could help… we wanted to help." If Ezra didn't know better, he would've thought he heard some confusion behind her reassuring voice, as if she hadn't known all what Ezra'd just revealed.

"Oh." It was still so hard not to be angry ― it was what fueled his heart and kept him from falling into despair. And Kanan still should not have told her, it had been pretty obvious the holocron stuff was Ezra's private self-exploration; hell, Kanan shouldn't've infringed on Ezra's privacy to know about it in the first place.

Hiding behind Kanan's and Hera's false array of honest concern, was a storm of their disgust ― mocking him, Ezra supposed. They _hated_ him, they thought he was irreformable. He didn't need to bother listening to the Force to see it. Ezra curled his lip, restraining himself from screaming out his pain and embarrassment ― instead merely focusing on the anger inside. Anger did make him feel more powerful, especially in this situation where he was so much the underdog, where those he had thought friends were now… his enemies? The word fluttered through his mind, but he shoved it away like a poison fruit. His breathing hitched erratically and went into panic mode, but he didn't let himself blink. _Use your anger to stay calm, use your anger…_ Maul's evil voice echoed in his head, and he listened to it.

This was all his fault. Mentally Ezra pictured himself tearing the blindfold right off his master's face, but he doubted he could keep it together if he saw what was underneath.

"Ezra?" Hera said, her voice gentle.

"It's mine," Ezra said ― hearing the words leave his mouth more than creating them.

"What?" said Kanan.

"The holocron." Yes, Ezra was feeling it now. What he was saying was a deadly important point, almost as deadly as what Kanan's response might be. "It told me it gave me the power of destruction or death or something along those lines ― _me_ , when _I_ unlocked the Temple. I made a horrible mistake, Ahsoka is gone because of me, but the holocron is still technically mine. Don't you trust me not to use my own holocron against you?"

Kanan fidgeted, and Ezra could sense exasperation from him. That was what it was, right? Kanan thought so little of him. The mournful spite within Ezra was on its way to losing its cool when Kanan spoke. "Ezra, I don't think it works that way. It's not _your_ ―"

Hera swiftly took hold of Kanan's hand, interrupting his speech and not being an idiot. "Kanan does _not_ think you would use anything against us." She paused, her eyes intense as she looked at each of them. She sounded like she might cry, but she was using something that wasn't anger to keep herself together. "Actually I don't understand why you would think that, Ezra, but I think it's clearer now we need to talk."

"Yeah ― yes." Kanan spluttered. "Look, it's not your fault what happened to Ahsoka. It was Maul, and _Vader_ ― I think Ahsoka _wanted_ to stay. It was her choice." Kanan's voice shook, and for a moment Ezra was strangely bewildered. Kanan was hurting right now. He wasn't an enemy, not when he needed his Ezra. Instinctively Ezra reached out through their Force bond ― virtuous intent was in mind, to soothe his master ― but maybe he came on too hard, too heavy and fast ― and Kanan instantly recoiled, eyebrows raising high above the blindfold, and he stumbled against Hera's shoulders.

She caught him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him as he caught his breath. "Kanan? Talk to me." Her voice hitched. Not being Force sensitive ― of course Hera had no idea what had happened. Ezra wasn't sure if he did, either.

"I'm sorry!" His voice was a pitiful squeak ― he didn't know what to say. Every ounce of him wanted to flee the scene, but it took every ounce to stay. "Kanan?"

Kanan straightened himself up, pulling away from Hera, but his face was pale. "Oops," he muttered like an idiot. "Just… my eyes." It was an obvious lie, but it struck guilt in Ezra all the same. The blindness… the loss… the Dark Side. It was around him, and it smelled like Ezra's beautiful holocron plus the remnants of that horrible Temple where he'd found it.

Ezra was anxious for him, but still angry. Now not so much at Kanan and Hera ― maybe they hated him, but it was that they thought things they shouldn't ― it was Ezra's fault, which was why he was furious with himself. His fault… could there be something wrong with him that shocked Kanan? No, there was something wrong with Kanan, his blindness ― he'd said it himself. Ezra closed his eyes.

"Hey." Kanan extended an arm friendlily, but Ezra shuddered when his master's hand rested on his shoulder. Kanan reached out towards him through the Force, and Ezra forced himself not to resist ― that was the worst thing he could do if he wanted to maintain any kind of anything. Kanan squeezed his shoulder, telling him through their bond not to worry, that he was here and that everything was okay.

"No it's not." The words slid out under Ezra's breath. How could everything be okay? Nothing was okay. Understandably Kanan disapproved of the only solution Ezra had found ― which was cool, the Dark Side scared Ezra too ― but apart from that, every other thing wrong was Ezra's fault. Nothing was okay. That was why he needed the holocron, to teach him to be strong ― to make it so things could be closer to okay. "I'm sorry, guys." His heart broke. "I kriffed up your lives more than any of you needed."

Suddenly there was a crash, and the door opened. Ezra blinked as the three other Spectres came in, not sure if he should care at this point. Everybody might as well be in on the _Ezra-is-a-freak_ party.

Chopper started beeping like a crazy thing. Ezra could sense that Zeb was embarrassed, and Sabine… well, she was always hard to read.

"Is Ezra using the bad side of the Force?" she inquired bluntly, and Ezra's hands curled into fists. She did care about him, the care was present in the room like a mist, but that didn't mean she had no obligation to respect his privacy. Like everybody. Kriffing. Else.

"Why… is everybody about my private Force life?" Ezra mumbled. It sounded a little dirty, but maybe it should be. His brain was filled like a swamp world, and numbness was again alternating places with the anger that was rapidly building in his chest.

"Ezra," Zeb said anxiously, closing a few steps between them, but Ezra suddenly lifted his fists. Before _Zeb_. Funny, annoying, awesome Zeb.

"No." As the word left Ezra's lips like a despairing cry, energy sizzled. It wasn't all new, no, it was manipulated, created both from within his heart and soul and midi-chlorians, yet pulled from reality around him, and used, in a way it was never intended to be used yet was immensely satisfying to do. Reality didn't seem so real around him; why should it, with the electricity sliding through the air that defied physics? His anger didn't hurt him anymore, layers of pain and weariness were lifted ― and suddenly, he felt the very clear desire to hurt someone. For a second it terrified him. Then he just figured he needed to find some big bad Imperials to vent this out on. Not them.

Not them.

"Ezra! Ezra!"

Ezra was brought back to reality by voices screaming at him, but when he focused his eyes, only one face sunk into his retinas. Kanan.

Kanan looked like a man who had lost everything ― no, a man who had lost everything so many many times, that he just didn't know what to do anymore when it happened again. What he couldn't see, he could sense. And evidently it wasn't a good experience for him.

Ezra looked around. It was real, as he was more than half surprised to see. The bunks were fried. His sheets looked like they would crumble in his hand and he didn't even want to touch that metal. This all… Ezra had literally created lightning, somehow ― he hadn't known the Force could do that!

But he hadn't hurt his friends.

Suddenly awkwardness filled Ezra's chest, and he forced himself to look forwards, silently daring them to do something about his stupid ass. For a while nobody spoke.

Then: "Force, Ezra…" Kanan was shaking as if he had seen a ghost, the most terrifying ghost of his past that he'd never wanted to lay eyes on. He was actually afraid.

Ezra gazed at him, feeling a little depleted. Not in a negative way; he felt strangely good, but less tense and ready. Less numb, the anger easier to control. Then he shivered, guilt washing over him again, and closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kanan," he whispered.

"No, it's not your fault." If Kanan had still eyes they probably would've been popping out of his skull, but he was swaying slightly, and Hera's arms wrapped around his waist from behind. "Where did you learn ― no, I'm sorry, Ezra, I should never have let you away from my side, I must have been pushing you too fast, we need to slow down ―"

Ezra curled his lip. "Ha, like you've actually been training me to even go too fast."

Hera's jaw twitched disapprovingly, but already Ezra regretted the words as they left his mouth. That had been _mean_ , just mean ― and it hadn't been his point. Kanan was too depressed to eat properly, let alone spar with the boy who had broken him. Besides, he didn't need the training Kanan would give. Kanan's master had died when he was not much younger than Ezra, but he'd carried the teachings in his heart to become the best master Ezra could wish for ― difficult, but so true. Ezra wished he could still be blissful in that fantasy world of Jedi and peace. He wished. Sadness and guilt washed over him, and he needed to apologize. So he started talking directly to his master, though the back of his mind was acutely aware that everybody was listening.

"Sorry, sorry ― I really wanted to be your Paduwan," he spluttered, because it was true. A couple adventures with Kanan Jarrus, and that had been all Ezra had possibly wanted. The fantasy. "Just, I don't think I can, and I don't want you to be mad, and it's wrong, but I managed to open the holocron." he rushed on, avoiding the look of disappointed horror across Kanan's face, "You said that makes me evil, and you're right, I shouldn't have been able to open it! I know the Dark Side is bad, but it does call to me, and we're between a rock and a hard place, and I have to do it. I _want_ to do it." He did want to, and maybe that was what made him evil. Didn't matter. If evil was what it took to bring justice to the Galaxy, for those he loved, maybe evil was a positive thing. He didn't see any other choice. Tears beaded at his eyelashes.

Why did he have to lose every family he ever had?

There was a silence, where Hera mouthed something with heartbreaking looks and Zeb stared with an expression Ezra'd never thought he'd see on the Lasat. And… he was pretty sure Sabine was clasping a bomb in her hand.

Back to Kanan. The Jedi was staring at Ezra as much as a blind guy could stare, and his face looked terrified. The Force backed up that theory. Fear stronger than he'd ever witnessed, even against Vader ― and seeing him like that scared Ezra, though probably less than it should have. But something told him Kanan wasn't quite afraid of _Ezra_ , this wasn't what it was; but as if his deluded ass mind saw something rising out of Ezra that was dark and new? In a way, that would be correct. Ezra did feel different, now that he'd been honest. He had opened the holocron.

Kanan's face was pleading. Ezra sensed not just his fear, but desperation. As if, things were worse than Kanan had known but… but… And, Ezra was reaching too deep into their bond! Mentally Kanan grasped onto his hand, only to let go abruptly. He was a wreck, but it was impossible to deny despite all the emotions and pounding heart that Kanan was a _determined_ wreck, and his eyes met Ezra's pleadingly as he finally started to speak, earnest but quavering. "That's okay, Ezra. It doesn't change anything. With you, and me, it doesn't matter what you want to be, or what you want to do. As your master, I'll always warn you not to mess with the Dark Side. It's the Jedi way, it's what I know. And what you did… oh Force. But as your friend, I'll have your back… if you choose to go down that path, if you do whatever… I won't stop loving you." Kanan _was_ terrified, and it radiated. That didn't matter at the moment. Clearly he couldn't bring himself to say he would support Ezra wielding the Dark Side ― but that was because he _meant_ what he was saying. They didn't hate him. Phew. They didn't hate him at all. At least this the Empire couldn't steal from him. Whatever Jedi morals upheld, Kanan would never stop loving him.

Tears beginning in his eyes, Ezra ran to Kanan unthinking and threw himself into him to so that nobody would see him sob.

Soothing. Calming. Relief. So much relief. Those were the main feelings that waved through the Force bond from Kanan to Ezra, as Ezra pressed himself against his chest.

Kanan may still live in that Jedi fantasy land, but he was awesome. After this, if this ever passed, when he was strong ― Ezra swore to himself that he going to protect Kanan. After all this, the holocron _owed_ it to him to show him how to do that.

He felt the blind man's arms around him, and he nuzzled closer. Warmly he felt Hera's arms from the back extend, to wrap around them both. She was so sweet.

He felt a rough but unusually gentle four-fingered hand on the back of his shoulder, and the tears rushed harder. It was Zeb, and he was there for him. Like he always would be. They were his family.

"It'll be okay," Sabine murmured as if she was an expert on the subject, which she probably did consider herself to be; she was in the group hug too, all of which was how he knew she really cared.

Then Chopper squeaked and ran his hard body into the hug at their legs.

Ezra couldn't avoid the tears that rolled down his cheeks and soaked into Kanan's depressingly week-old unwashed shirt. The actions of this beautifully dysfunctional team perhaps had always been altruistically unrealistic ― they were so good ― and he loved them for it. Maybe they wouldn't be the same if they weren't nosey asses.

Awh. That holocron sure had a lot to make up for. But for now, he would enjoy his family.

The End


End file.
